


Jackson's Fire

by jackson_nicole



Series: Elemental Magick [1]
Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 16:24:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13252053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackson_nicole/pseuds/jackson_nicole





	1. Chapter 1

"I swear to the Gods, Morgan...You're going to pay for this." Serena spat as she struggled against her bonds that the witch tightened above her head. The witch, Morgan, had her and at least 6 other witches that Serena knew of held somewhere in her cottage, hell-bent on killing them for their powers. Morgan was one of the original witches, but yet she still felt she didn't have enough power. Morgan was tall and beautiful. Pale skin, light eyes, and light blonde hair. But all her beauty was poisoned by her evil nature.

Morgan let out a laugh as she cleaned her knives. Ones she intended to use for the ritual. "Oh, please, Serena. Your threats mean nothing to me."

"Malum maleficus!" Serena shouted. Morgan shot over to her, pressing the knife against Serena's throat, yanking her dark, curly hair back. Serena whimpered in pain as the knife cut into her skin. Serena was world renowned for her magnificent beauty. Her raven black curls framed an angelic face, with two pools of blue in her eyes. Her skin was a light olive color, her body curved and smooth. Morgan hated Serena for her beauty, even more for her power.

"You know not. Of what you speak. Turpis canis." Morgan spat. Morgan spit into the fire, making it roar with life. Morgan shouted, in Latin, for her servants to bring the other witches up. Morgan rounded a cauldron that sat over the fire in the middle of the room. She picked up one of the knives and drew the blade across her hand. Muttering in Latin, she held her hand over the cauldron, squeezing her blood into the cauldron, making the liquid sizzle and pop. Serena began to struggle furiously at her bonds. One by one, witches Serena knew and loved were brought in and tied up, hands above their heads, just like Serena. Morgan smiled at her work and flipped through an old spell book. Morgan pulled out 7 vials of blood and one by one poured each into the cauldron as well.

"Morgan! Stop this!" One of the male witches shouted. Morgan glanced up at him but kept flipping through the pages. "Morgan, there's a better way. You don't need to do this."

Morgan found her page and began to recite in Latin. As she spoke, the man that spoke to her screamed in agony. The other witches cried out to Morgan, begging her to stop...Until she did. When she did, the man went limp. Morgan smirked in pleasure and began to recite another spell in Latin. Again, as she spoke, a green mist rose from the man's lifeless body and flew to Morgan. Morgan's mouth opened, slightly at first, then wide as the mist flowed inside and down her throat. There was a deep groaning noise as Morgan took the mist into herself. Once it was all gone, Morgan closed her mouth and her eyes and fell back into a chair, sitting motionless for a moment or two. The other witches went silent as they watched their captor, hoping that the mist had killed her in some way. After a while, Morgan's eyes shot open and she stood, slowly, chuckling to herself. She took in a deep breath before speaking again.

"Oh, my. Arthur had such wonderful magick. Mmm...Yes...I can feel it running through my veins. Such power." Morgan cackled, turning her hands over and sliding her hands over the veins that glowed with the new magick. She took in a deep breath and moved her gaze to the woman hanging next to Arthur. The woman's eyes went wide and she began begging, in Latin, for Morgan to stop. "Yes. Keep begging Melinda. Your death will come that much faster."

Morgan twisted her fingers and Melinda's pleas came in gasps and strangled noises. The others pleaded with Morgan, but to no avail. Morgan began, again, to recite the first Latin spell. Slowly, Melinda's gasping silenced and she too went limp. Pleased with her progress, Morgan recited the second spell again. This time, an orange mist rose from Melinda's body and floated to Morgan. This time, once Morgan had taken in this mist, she remained standing and appeared stronger than ever. Slowly, the wrinkles and age lines on her face disappeared. Morgan smiled as the other witches gasped in shock. Morgan cackled loudly, curling her fingers up and causing the flames under the cauldron to crackle and roar to life. Morgan soon ended her wicked laughter and sighed, content.

"So. You are doing this for youth." An older man said, his voice strong and brave. Serena turned to the old man.

"Father, please. Don't." She begged. Morgan shifted her gaze to the elder and sauntered over

"No. In fact, I'm doing this solely for the power. The youth is just a happy bonus." Morgan said, her lips curling up into a smirk. Morgan held a hand up in front of the old man's chest.

"NO!" Serena screamed. Morgan glared at her. "No. Morgan, please. Please, spare my father. Let him go."

"He is the oldest member of our village." Morgan spat. She turned to look at the old man. "Meaning he has the most power."

Morgan began to close her fist and as she did, the old man's eyes widened and he gasped for breath.

"MORGAN STOP!" Serena screamed, tears streaming down her face. Morgan relaxed her hand and the old man exhaled, hard, panting.

"Don't worry, Magnus. I have plans for you." Morgan said, turning with a swish of her long black dress. She went back to the cauldron and stirred it, briefly.

"Why are you doing this, Morgan?" A woman asked. Morgan sighed, not looking at the girl, and flipped through her spells.

"Because, Cassandra." She looked up at them all. "I want power. Power gives me the will to do everything I ever wanted. And no one can tell me otherwise."

She gave a soft giggle and rounded the witches, picking her next victim. Serena kept silent, mostly to make sure her father was still alive, but also to bide her time on the secret she kept. Until, finally, she chose her moment.

"You will never stop the prophecy." Serena said, her voice as brave, strong and bold as her father's'. Morgan stopped behind Cassandra and shot a death glare at Serena.

"Prophecy." Morgan spat the word with such force and such hate, the fire gave a small roar. "Tiana is an old hag who knows NOTHING of the future. All her predictions have gone wrong. In one way or another!"

Serena gave a small smirk. "This prophecy didn't come from Tiana..." Serena said, holding her head up in defiance. Morgan gave a little sneer and scoffed.

"There is no other in the village that can see," Morgan said.

"They aren't from the village," Serena said.

"Tell me who they are."

"No." Morgan shot a hand out and Cassandra screamed, then went limp. Her mist was purple and it materialized into Morgan.

"Tell me, Serena." Morgan hissed.

"Never." Morgan pointed to the man that was next to her. This time there was no screaming, he only went limp and his red mist, into Morgan.

"I will kill every witch here and make you watch your father die unless you tell me what I know!" Morgan shrieked, looking at the woman next to her father. There was the awful sound of bones breaking and a blue mist flew to Morgan. "Tell me, Serena or your precious father dies."

Morgan looked at Serena's father, Magnus, and he once again began to gasp for air. Serena whimpered but still refused to give a name.

"Morgan, stop this now!" Serena shouted.

"TELL ME!" Morgan screamed. Serena screamed as well and all at once everything happened. The fire roared to life and formed a huge column that shot through the straw ceiling. Startled by it, and Morgan's mind and magick still on Magnus, she fell backward, curling her fists. Magnus let out a final breath and his glowing white mist flew through the fire and into Morgan.

"FATHER, NO!" Serena screamed, sobbing. As her anger and sadness grew in her, her magick became more powerful. Serena shot her hands up and the ropes around her wrists dissolved. Serena dropped to the floor and bolted. Morgan screamed and the scream echoed and shook the whole cottage. Serena had just barely made it out the front door, when Morgan descended on her, tackling her to the floor.

"Did you really think it would have been that easy?!" Morgan shouted. Morgan brought a hand across Serena's face, hard, making Serena cry out in pain. "Tell me the name, Serena and I'll make your death much less painful than I planned!"

"Never!" Serena shot out her hands at the witch, sending her flying backward, slamming into the wall of her own house. Serena picked herself up as Morgan stood. Morgan raised her head, then her hand, trapping Serena in her hold and Serena lifted off the ground.

"Tell me or die, Serena Pope." Morgan hissed. Morgan twister her fingers causing Serena to cry out in pain and hold her stomach. Morgan curled her fist and Serena gasped for air. Knowing she would soon die, she uttered one last word.

With her eyes wide and body relaxed, ready for death, she said, ever so softly, "Jackson."

~

"Jackson! Hello!" Cayla said, waving a hand in front of her friend's face. Jackson came out of her trance and sighed, pushing at her hand. Jackson was a 27 year-old witch, and one of the most powerful in her clan. Her hair was long, dark and curled. Her features were soft and blended well with her tanned skin and blue eyes. Cayla, her best friend, was tall, light-skinned, with gorgeous brown hair, that for some reason, Jackson never understood why, she always kept tied back. Except for a few strands she allowed in front of her face.

"Can a witch meditate for 5 minutes?" Jackson said, smirking. Cayla giggled and jumped down from the roof Jackson sat on. She did a tuck and roll, landing on her hands and pushing herself off the ground and onto her feet. Jackson rolled her eyes and giggled. "Show off..."

Jackson smirked, took a few steps back, then ran and jumped, doing a swan dive off the roof. Cayla shouted at her 'Show off!' 'Cheeky!', and when Jackson made no move to save herself, Cayla got worried.

"Jackson!" She shouted, shooting out her hands, ready to make a magick hammock to save her friend. Jackson brought her hands out in front of her and a silvery mist flowed out and guided her to her feet. Cayla sighed and crossed her arms, shifting her weight. Jackson shifted as she got her footing and put her hands on her hips, looking up at her friend, tossing the stray strands of hair out of her face. "That wasn't funny. Tiana would have my magicam vitam if anything happened to you."

"Seriously, Cai? I was fine. I know what I'm doing." Jackson said. Cayla rolled her eyes and turned, going to her car.

"Can we go? Tiana's waiting." Cayla slipped into her Dodge Challenger and started it. Jackson let out a laugh and shook her head, striding over to slip into the passenger side. Cayla took off once the door closed and zipped in and out of traffic weaving her way through cars.

"So...Why does Tiana want to see me this time? Cai, this is like the 15th time I've seen her in a month. No one sees her that often unless they're about to die, or are very, very, VERY...Important to the clan." Jackson said, turning to her friend. "And I'm not THAT important."

"Well...Not according to Tiana." Cayla said, leaning an arm out the window, her brown hair flying back behind her.

"Tiana is...She's old, Cai. She's...What? 4, 5 hundred years old? Maybe more. Who knows!? But why won't she tell me anything?" Jackson said.

"She hasn't told you anything?" Cayla asked, confused, glancing at Jackson. Jackson shook her head.

"No. Whenever she says she needs to see me, she gives someone some bullshit excuse as to why, then I show up, she does her little...Reading thing." Jackson said, flailing her hands. "Doesn't say a word to me for at least an hour then pops back into her head and says 'You can go now, dear'."

Jackson deflated, thumping back in her seat. Cayla chuckled.

"Well...That's Tiana for you." She said. Jackson shook her head and looked out the window as they drove.

"How're things with Jason?" Jackson asked. Jackson knew Cayla and her ex-husband were still bitter over the divorce, but with new developments over the last couple months, finalizing it had become harder. Cayla gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. Jackson knew her friend was trying to keep herself under control. When pregnant, a witch's power can sometimes have no control under circumstances of extreme emotion.

"Jason is a dick bag that can die at the bottom of a ditch, for all I care!" Cayla shouted. Jackson watched her friend curse and call Jason every name under the sun before her hands relaxed and Cayla took a deep breath letting it out slowly. Jackson blinked, then said, "Better?"

Cayla glanced at her friend and nodded. "Better."

Jackson laughed and Cayla joined in as they zoomed down the road.

~


	2. Chapter 2

Finally, they arrived at the mansion and Cayla drove through the gates. She stopped outside the front doors and the pair got out, going inside. The mansion was furnished with different styles in each room. All of them equally expensive. Each room was dedicated to a specific need. 4 dedicated to each element; Earth, Fire, Water, Air. 17 dedicated to the education of young witches until the age of 18-22. 2-3 hundred were housing to witch couples and their families. There were 15 rooms that had padding lining the entire room, used for combat training. But the biggest and grandest room in the entire mansion was saved for the head of the clan and his/her family. At the moment, Tiana was the head of the clan, and her husband and children had long since died.

Jackson being almost 30, she ought to have been married. But Tiana kept a close watch on her and a few choice others in the clan. She had told them that one day, she would choose one of them to succeed her as head of the clan. Everyone in the clan knew that Jackson was Tiana's favorite and they all believed she would replace Tiana. But Tiana stood firm, that she would make her choice based on their actions; She played no favorites.

Jackson walked into the mansion, Cayla soon leaving her to be with one of her lovers. Since the divorce, Cayla made a vow to sow her wild oats before she even thought about getting married again. Jackson weaved in and out of the throng of people, making her way to Tiana's door. Two guards stood there, in a Secret Service type manner. Legs set apart, hands folded in front of themselves, guns at their hips ready to defend her. As Jackson approached, they nodded at her and opened the door.

"Thanks, guys," Jackson said, slipping inside, the door closing fast behind her. Jackson stood at the door, waiting for Tiana to call her in. After about 15 minutes, Jackson got antsy and slowly went into Tiana's bedroom, knocking on the door, lightly. "Um...Tiana?"

"I was wondering if you would be the one who would come in..." Tiana said, hovering over her cauldron.

"Um...I..."

"I called the others in as well," Tiana said. Jackson knew by 'others' she meant the chosen few that were possible successors. "They waited for over an hour, standing in the same place, waiting for me to call them in."

Tiana gave a small giggle. Jackson smirked. She liked being around the old bat. Tiana had an old soul. Older than she actually was, but she also had a young soul at times. The pair amused each other.

"So...Why did you call me here?" Jackson asked, sitting down across from the cauldron. Tiana muttered in Latin and sprinkled this and that into the cauldron.

"Because I need tests to be done," Tiana said. Jackson raised an eyebrow and gave a soft laugh, confused.

"Okay. Um...What in the hell are you talking about, Tiana?" Jackson asked. Tiana grabbed a handful of some sort of powder, muttered again in Latin, and blew the powder into Jackson's face. Jackson flailed, waving her hands in front of her face and coughing. "Tiana! What the fuck?!"

When Jackson looked up, she saw Tiana floating on a cloud above her. Jackson looked around herself and saw that she was flying in the middle of the sky. Or so it seemed. All Tiana's life she has studied every element and aspect of the magickal arts. This was just one of those secrets Tiana had unlocked. Creating an alternate world with hallucinogens and magick.

"This is your first test, Jackson Conor," Tiana said, her voice loud and echoing. "Find your way."

Jackson blinked, confused. "Find my way? What does that even mean? I know my way. I'll either end up being your replacement, or some housewife to another witch." Jackson said. Tiana gave an amused chuckle.

"This is precisely why I have devised this test. All the others have failed this test. Which means you will not. If you do not succeed me as head of this clan, what will you do? Find your way. Once you have done so, you shall hear my voice calling for you. Follow it." And with that Tiana disappeared. For a moment, Jackson hung in the sky illusion, then it vanished.

Jackson woke with a start, gasping and sitting upright.

"Whoa! Whoa. Jaxa, calm down." Cayla said. Jackson looked around and saw that she was not in Tiana's room, rather, she was in her own. In her own bed. "Jax? Hey. You with me?"

Cayla wore a concerned look on her face.

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm here, Cai." Jackson said, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and sighing.

"What happened? Tiana called me up and said you fainted? You don't faint." Cayla said. Jackson now understood why her friend seemed to be in such distress. Jackson was one of the strongest witches in the clan, argued, in the world. Most witches had a line that once they crossed, they became weak. Be it blood, abuse, bugs, etc. But with Jackson, she seemed not to have one of these lines. She could stomach almost anything. She had helped through numerous births, performed alongside doctors in plenty of surgeries. So if ever there was a reason for the 'great' Jackson Connor to have fainted, the cause had to be serious.

"I didn't faint," Jackson stated, plainly. "Tiana used some sort of powder on me. She said it was a test."

"A test?" Cayla asked, confused. She tilted her head to the side, like a confused puppy. Then she brightened and said, "Like 'you're going to replace me so I have to see what you're worth', type test?!"

"Yeah, I guess?" Jackson said, getting up and going to the bathroom. Cayla followed her friend and leaned against the doorway. Jackson turned on the faucet and splashed some water on her face.

"What was the test?" Cayla asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"It's an ongoing test, I guess?"

"What makes you say that?" Jackson wiped her face and turned to her friend, leaning against the counter.

"She said I have to 'find my way'." Cayla snorted.

"How very Rafiki of her." Cayla giggled. Jackson smirked. "What did she mean by it?"

"She said if I don't succeed her as head, then what will I do?"

"Um, you're still the best witch here, so you'll marry the most gorgeous witch in the clan and have tons of babies and live happily ever after?" Cayla said.

"That's what I said. I told her my way is either becoming head or marrying a witch and being a housewife. But I guess that's not what she had in mind." Jackson said, shrugging and placing the towel she held back on the rack. Jackson walked out of the bathroom, taking her shirt off as she crossed the floor to her closet. "And anyway, I don't really want to become head of the clan. It's too much work and responsibility. If our witches don't know how to be adults and handle themselves on their own, I'm not going to hold their hand."

"Why is she so focused on you? You're just a witch from California who just happened to find us in Ireland." Cayla said with a shrug. Jackson gave her a look.

"Thanks. I feel so special." She said, sarcastically. Cayla giggled.

"You know what I mean. You're a powerful witch, but you don't come from any ancient line. You're...Just a witch." Cayla said.

"Yeah I know," Jackson said, pulling on a tight long sleeved shirt. "But...You know I can't help but feel like my family isn't my real family."

Cayla raised an eyebrow, confused. "Meaning...?" Jackson sighed and fixed her hair.

"I don't know! Like...Maybe I was adopted or something?" She said.

"Witch families don't adopt..." Cayla said, watching her friend. Jackson chewed her lip, then sighed.

"I lied about my family, Cayla, okay? I...Didn't grow up in a witch family..." Jackson said, not looking at her oldest friend.

"What do you mean? You had to have been. There's no way you can be as powerful as you are unless you were brought up in magick..." Cayla said.

"Not unless they knew our secrets and taught me..." Jackson said, finally stealing a glance at Cayla.

"Jackson, are you telling me you were raised by mortals who knew magick?!" Cayla asked.

"Yes. Cayla. That's what I'm saying." Jackson said. She sighed and rubbed her temples. "I mean...I look just like my parents and the rest of my family. They told me it was a natural talent. That my grandmother had it. My great grandmother..."

"Jackson, if the clan finds out, they'll kick you out."

"Why? Because I wasn't raised by witches? For all intents and purposes, they were witches. They knew everything about magick."

"If Tiana finds out...!"

"Tiana...Already knows." Jackson said, closing her eyes briefly while she spoke. She looked at her friend and repeated it. "Tiana knows, Cai. She knows."

Cayla blinked, shocked. "And she still took you in?" Jackson crossed her arms in offense.

"What does that mean? What, just because I was raised by mortals means I'm not good enough for you anymore?"

"No! Jaxa.." Cayla sighed. "Of course not. I love you. You're my best friend. It's just...Everything that we've been taught...

"Is wrong. And you know it."

"I know. But we've always turned away witches who weren't really witches, but Tiana lets you in when you are one of the witches we would have turned away?"

"I don't understand it any more than you, Cai. Okay? All I know is, I'm adopted, and Tiana still let me in." Jackson said. She slipped into her knee high, sleek, black heeled boots, fixed her pants, and stood.

"Jaxi, I'm sorry. But when my best friend of 10 years just now tells me she was raised by mortals who knew magick? Excuse, if I'm a little shocked..." Cayla said, holding up a hand, then tucking it back under her arm. Jackson sighed.

"Okay, well...Can we forget about it now?" Jackson asked, going to her vanity and grabbing a hair tie and pulled her hair into a high ponytail.

"Yeah. Naomi should be back by now anyway." Cayla said with a smirk. Jackson smirked and the pair sauntered out of the room.

~


	3. Chapter 3

When they reached the foyer, a small crowd had gathered. Jackson and Cayla pushed their way through and they reached the middle of the circle and found a tall, thin, dark skinned, dark haired woman, at least 2 years younger than Jackson. Her long dark hair had hints of gold strands and was braided. The woman tossed her braids over her shoulder and she turned. When she saw Jackson and Cayla, she shouted and embraced the pair. Jackson and Cayla laughed and hugged her back.

"So. How was it down south?" Cayla asked. The clan was based in Belfast, Northern Ireland, and only Tiana's most trusted advisers traveled to the different clans throughout Europe.

Naomi shrugged and shrugged off her jacket. "It was alright. I've been there a thousand times." She said, handing off her jacket and linking arms with her friends, walking down the hall.

"Find yourself a nice Irish witch yet?" Jackson teased as the trio went to the in-house cafe. Naomi giggled.

"No. Not yet...But the sex was amazing as always." The three laughed and took a seat at one of the tables. "But in all seriousness..."

"What did she send you for this time?" Jackson asked.

"Had to...Deal with some rogue witches." Naomi said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Finally! I'm sick of hearing about all those deaths...Gives us a bad name." Cayla said, crossing her arms and sitting back in her seat.

"We already have a bad name, Cai...Hello? Salem witch trials ring a bell?" Jackson said. Cayla made a face at her and the trio giggled.

"Welcome to Clan's Tavern. What can I get you girls?" A handsome young witch came up to the table, notepad in hand and a smile. Cayla and Naomi looked over the new addition and smirked. Cayla giggled and said, leaning forward and resting her chin in her hand, "How about a tall drink of water?"

The man blushed a little and gave a soft chuckle. Jackson and Naomi rolled their eyes and snickered. 

"What can I get you, miss?" The man repeated.

"The good stuff. My usual. They know me." Cayla said, waving her hand toward the bar and sitting back. The man nodded and turned to Naomi.

"And you?"

"Scotch on the rocks with a twist," Naomi said, throwing the man a wink. He wrote it down and turned to Jackson.

"X Rated On The Beach. Thanks, love." Jackson said, looking over her menu. The man wrote down their orders and left the table.

"Way to throw yourself out there, Cai. What about Matt?" Naomi asked, glancing up from her menu. Cayla waved her hand at Naomi.

"He's lost his touch. We came back today, me and Jax, and while she was with Tiana getting disappointed, I was with Matt..." Jackson and Naomi looked at her. She glanced between the two and said, "Getting disappointed as well?"

"We know what you meant, Cayla." They said together.

"You've gone through almost every single witch in the clan...That's of age, that is." Naomi said.

"Doesn't the meaningless sex get old after a while?" Jackson asked.

"Not really. They're all hot." Cayla giggled. Jackson rolled her eyes and shook her head and Naomi snickered.

"Change of topic...How are things with your husband, Nae?" Jackson asked, glancing at Naomi.

"It's good." She said, with a smile. "Shyla and Marcus are finally taking to me."

Naomi's first husband had died, tragically, a few years after they got married. Her and her new husband, Nick, met while on business for the clan and married a few months after. His two children from his previous marriage despised her at first but slowly began to warm up to her.

"That's great, Nae," Cayla said.

"Speaking of kids..." Naomi said, smirking. "How's your little bun doing?"

Cayla smiled and slid a hand over her stomach. "Good. Doctor says the baby's healthy. I just...Need to have a little less sex..." She giggled.

"And what about you, Jaxi? You're the only witch in this clan that has never had a relationship with anyone. You need to find yourself a man." Naomi said.

"Oh, please. Do you understand how many times I've tried to tell her that?" Cayla said, rolling her eyes, but throwing a teasing smirk at her friend.

"Hey. My life is not based around finding a guy and living happily ever after with our 15 kids. I do my own thing. If I happen to meet a guy, cool. If not...I'll still be the best witch in the clan." Jackson said smirking.

"Well...Nick has a friend and..." Naomi was cut short by a loud noise that echoed throughout the mansion. The windows and tables shook, violently; Bottles of alcohol fell off the shelves in the bar; The waiters and waitresses stumbled and fell, dropping their trays, food flying everywhere. Naomi, Cayla, Jackson and the other witches in the cafe stabled themselves before standing and getting ready to defend against anything that happened. Loud explosions echoed outside and everyone filed out. Jackson looked around and saw that nearly the entire clan had emptied out of the mansion. Whispers and mutterings filled the air as everyone wondered what was going on. Suddenly, someone screamed. Everyone turned, looking for the source. Slowly, everyone's gaze turned upward towards the roof of the mansion...Where Tiana's dead body hung, limp, overhead. A wave of silence washed over the crowd before everyone descended into frantic chaos. People ran, shoving each other out of the way, calling for their loved ones and children. Jackson shoved back as she fought her way to a decent clearing, then shot into the air, soaring to Tiana. Jackson grabbed her and floated down to Tiana's balcony, setting her old, wrinkled, delicate body on the chaise lounge chair. She turned to the massive crowd and shouted to get their attention. No one but Naomi and Cayla paid attention. Finally, she shot out her hands, flames shooting from her palms and going over the crowd. The flames changed from orange-red, to purple, blue, green and pink. Finally, after catching everyone's attention, it turned silver and disappeared.

"LISTEN!" Jackson shouted. "We don't know what has just happened...But we know what we must do."

Her gaze swept over the crowd picking out the 4 others that Tiana had under consideration as a replacement.

"This might not have been what Tiana planned, but now, more than ever is the time to prove ourselves. Hannah. Justin. Mickey. Sarah. Tiana chose us, to prove ourselves worthy of taking over as head of the clan and rule in her stead." Jackson held out her hands. "What a time for it. Everyone find your families and come back inside. Everyone goes back to their homes and stay there until one of us comes to you with instructions. You four meet me in Tiana's room."

Jackson waved a hand and a silvery-blue mist descended upon the crowd and shot behind them, to the front gates. It was a simple spell everyone was taught. A spell that triggered a shield against anything magickal or non. All at once, calmly this time, the witches began to move, everyone finding their families and the 4 hopefuls guiding them back into the mansion. Jackson turned away and all her emotions let loose. Tears slid down her face as she knelt beside Tiana. Jackson took Tiana's hands in hers and kissed them before folding them over her lifeless body. Jackson waved a hand over her body and Tiana lifted into the air and flew inside, and to her bed. Jackson lowered her hand, and with it, Tiana floated to rest on her bed. She walked inside and the doors flew shut behind her as she went to Tiana's bedside and sat, to wait for the others.

About an hour went by before the 4 finally arrived in Tiana's bedroom. Jackson's tears had long since dried and she sat silently in her chair, staring at Tiana's body. Hannah, a small, blonde-haired, green-eyed woman walked in first. She knelt in front of Tiana briefly then moved to stand next to Jackson. Mickey was next. His 6'5" form filled the doorway before he, too, knelt. His long black hair hung around his bowed head, and when he raised it, his grey eyes were clouded with tears. He silently shuffled to the other side of the bed and waited. Justin and Sarah arrived last. Justin had shaggy golden red hair and freckles that sprinkled across his face. He wore a solemn expression as he knelt, then took his spot next to Justin. Sarah was only 13, but her soul was as old as Tiana was. She was small, standing at only 5'4", but her powers and voice made her tall. Her powder blue hair stuck up from the ponytail she had put in. Tiana had paid special attention to Sarah, seeing as she was so young. Tiana was almost a grandmother to her, so with her death, Sarah broke down. Shaking, Sarah knelt, then took a place beside Jackson and Hannah. The 5 stayed silent for a moment or two longer, out of respect. Finally, Mickey spoke.

"Jackson. We all know Tiana was going to choose you to lead us. There's no need to..." Before he could finish his sentence, Jackson flew at him.

"No one knows what she would have done! She showed Sarah attention as well, but no one ever says she would have chosen her!" Jackson screamed as she shot spell after spell at him. Mickey ducked and dodged them all until Justin and Hannah were able to hold her back.

"That's not what I meant!" Mickey shouted, his deep voice booming throughout the room. Jackson fought against Justin and Hannah until Mickey came over and pressed two fingers to the middle of her forehead and muttered in Latin. Slowly, Jackson stopped resisting and Justin helped her into a chair. Sarah came over and moved her hands around Jackson's body, a white mist trailing them. Jackson exhaled sharply and closed her eyes for a brief moment.

"Jackson you must remain calm," Hannah said. "All of us are devastated by Tiana's death. Not just you."

"But she's right. No one knows who Tiana was going to choose. It has to now be put to a vote by the Grand Council." Sarah said.

"Not until her killer is found," Jackson said.

"How do you know she was murdered?" Mickey asked.

"Um, hello?! Tiana could have lived for another hundred years. Choosing her successor is just something she had to do at her age." Jackson shouted. She sighed and covered her face before saying, "Besides...Check her chest..."

Hannah went to Tiana and carefully drew back her shirt. A huge blackened wound rested just above her heart. Hannah gasped and clasped a hand over her mouth.

"Someone killed Tiana. Killing the head of a clan is punishable by death. And it takes a powerful witch to kill her like this." Jackson said. Mickey and Hannah looked at each other. Mickey and Hannah were the son and daughter of two of the original witches that were savagely killed by the evil necromancer, Morgan. They were only 6 years old when their parents died and they were taken and hidden away once the rest of their village heard that Cassandra and Arthur were taken by Morgan.

"You don't think..." Mickey started.

"It's not possible. They told us she was killed!" Hannah shrieked in fear. Jackson and the others looked at them, confused.

"Explain, please," Jackson said, holding out a hand and her brow furrowed in a mix of emotion. Mickey sighed.

"Before the Salem witch trials, we lived in our own village, undetected, for years. Morgan was one of the original witches in the original clan, along with my mother and Hannah's father. In a quest for power, she killed all the original witches, except for Tiana and another Seer." Mickey said.

"Morgan has the most power that any witch can. The only witches that could ever rival her..." Hannah looked at Mickey. "Well...Are in this room..."

"And one is dead," Mickey said. Sarah shifted and crossed her arms, slight fear on her face.

"And the other?" Sarah asked. Mickey and Hannah looked at each other, then at Jackson. Jackson blinked as she slowly realized who the other witch was.

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no. How can it be me?!" Jackson shouted. "I lived in California my whole life!"

"Where you grew up doesn't matter. When Magnus died, his magick arose in a new life. Your life." Hannah said.

"Wait. Who's Magnus?" Sarah asked. Hannah sighed.

"You haven't yet learned about our founders. Magnus was the first witch. Tiana, the second. Serena, Magnus' daughter was the third. And Morgan, the fourth. As the first witch, Magnus had the most power out of the 4 of them. As they lived, they roamed, town to town, country to country, in search of their own. In Salem was where they found more witches. As each new life was tapped, more and more witches emerged. Soon they set up the different clans in each town, in each charter, of each country." Hannah said.

"After two centuries, almost everywhere you went had a clan of witches that was well hidden. The only reason the suspicion of witchcraft arose was because of Morgan and her quest for power. She killed Magnus and our parents. All for power. When she killed them and took their magick, she became even more powerful than Tiana." Mickey said.

"Tiana is the most powerful witch," Justin stated.

"Over time, yes. Morgan's stolen power grew weaker and weaker and she needed more. She kills but kills silently and carefully. Picks off the weaker witches, ones without clans or any ties to the Grand Council." Hannah said.

"Then why now has she decided it was the best time to kill Tiana?" Jackson asked. Hannah and Mickey both shrugged.

"We don't know. But if Morgan DID kill Tiana...We have a lot more to worry about than finding Tiana's replacement." Mickey said.

~


	4. Chapter 4

"Leave Belfast?!" Cayla and Naomi shouted together. The pair had snuck into Jackson's rooms after the announcement was made that all was clear. Although most every witch stayed in their rooms, Cayla and Naomi had to make sure their friend was okay. Jackson packed her bags as her friends lounged on her bed.

"Yes. I can't stay here if this Morgan bitch is after me." Jackson said, shoving clothes into her suitcase.

"Wait. Hold up. Jackie, you can't just leave! You're Tiana's replacement!" Naomi said.

"No, I'm not. Just because she favored me, doesn't mean anything without her official statement or the Grand Council's. And they won't be here for two weeks. All the hopefuls are leaving." Jackson said.

"Jack, this is insane. Where are you going to go? " Cayla said.

"Back home."

"California? You really think she won't look for you there?" Naomi said, putting her hands on her hips, shifting her weight and giving her friend a look. Jackson sighed and closed her suitcase.

"Look. If this bitch finds me, she'll either kill me or I'll kill her. Either way, I'm a danger being here. I'm a danger to everyone in the clan. I have to leave. We all do, us hopefuls. Don't worry. I'll keep in touch okay?" Jackson hugged each of her friends goodbye and left. As she reached the gates, Cayla caught up with her.

"Jackson! Wait!" Cayla shouted. Jackson sighed and turned.

"Cayla, I'm not staying. I have to leave."

"I know that. Just...Take this." Cayla took her friend's' hand and pressed a cool stone into it. Jackson looked at it, confused.

"What is this?" Jackson asked.

"It's a heartstone. My mother gave it to me. She said it belonged to a dear friend of hers. She gave it to her before Morgan took her." Cayla said. "She was the daughter of Magnus, the first witch. People say Morgan killed her, others say she stills roams. This heartstone warms and lights up when near its owner. If anyone can help you, Serena can. I hope to the Gods you find her and that she can help you."

Jackson smiled and pulled Cayla into a tight embrace. "I love you, Cai."

"Love you too, Jack," Cayla said. The two parted and Jackson walked through the gates and away from her home.

~

Jackson traveled from Belfast to Mullingar to one of the smaller witch clans, in hopes of finding a compassionate family or clan to take her in. She wasn't too ready to go home yet, for fear that Morgan might look there first. She loved her adoptive family very much and it was, for this reason, she stayed away. If Morgan went to Belfast, she would torture every witch there until she found the hopefuls and where they had gone. By telling Cayla and Naomi she was headed back home, Jackson could elude Morgan for a little while longer and would save them the torture.

She traveled as inconspicuous as possible, not wearing her rings and necklaces with the Coven's crest, not knowing what spies Morgan had out. She kept her hood up and her eyes down. She wandered into town and went straight to a hole in the wall pub. Being a hopeful to replace Tiana, she knew where every clan was, in every country. She walked in and made sure the door was closed before she removed her hood. The pub was filled with witches and mortals, who promptly turned to stare at her when she walked in. Jackson stopped and looked around for a moment before the music and conversation resumed. Jackson took another glance around at the tables near her, who still stared, then she made her way up to the bar and sat down, keeping her bag close.

“You’re new ‘round ‘ere.” The barkeep asked, watching her as he cleaned the wine glasses.

“Yes. And I’m not here for trouble.” She said. The barkeep nodded and set down his glass and towel, leaning against the counter.

“Then why are ‘ya here? We don’ take kindly to strangers.” He said. Jackson looked up at him. His face was old and wrinkled, telling her he was a well-seasoned witch. His dark eyes pierced into her so she knew she couldn’t lie to him. Jackson took a quick glance around and turned back to him to speak to him in Latin.

“I seek shelter. And a meeting with the head of your coven.” She said, softly, in Latin.

“And why should I indulge?” He responded, also in Latin.

“I am from the coven in Belfast. Tiana is dead.” Jackson said, looking him dead in the eyes. The man stood, taking a step back and making a cross over his body.

“I ‘adn’t ‘eard. I am truly sorry.” He said, reverting back to English. “Follow me.”

The barkeep made his way down the bar and opened the small doors to let her in. Jackson grabbed her bags and made her way down, walking through. She stepped through and stopped, waiting for the old man to lead her down. Which he did. He brought her through another set of doors to a hallway. The man led her down and down and down, until she was sure, mostly for the chill in the air, that they were well underground. In the old days, when Magnus and the other First Witches went around establishing the covens, they often needed secret meeting areas. Most of them established beneath pubs or the coven house, though there were some that rested under old abandoned houses or castles along the coast. Most were dug deep in the earth, so they could be more connected with the Earth’s natural magick rather than the surface magick every witch used.

The man stopped in front of an ornately carved door of cherry wood. Each coven had their own tree from which they were planted around the coven house and certain other places so the witches of said coven could draw in their magick when necessary. He took a small ring of keys out from his apron pocket and unlocked the door, pushing it open then stepping aside to let her in. Jackson bowed her head in respect and walked in. Inside the room, was a well-furnished office. Over the years, as head of the witches, Tiana made sure every coven all over the world was kept up to date with the new era; Be it computers, fax machines, even iPads in the recent years. Since only the oldest witches were the heads of house in their coven, unless they named a replacement, they had lived through everything, all the changes of the world. The witch world was one of very ancient history and secret societies, but they kept themselves public as mortals for their own safety.

The room was well lit, if only by flame, but it was plentiful. A large cherry wood desk sat in front of her, along with three cushioned cherry wood chairs surrounding it. While Jackson half expected the old man to be the head of his coven, she wasn’t surprised to see the seat behind the desk empty, but she was, however, surprised to see the old man go to another door, off to the side and speak through it in a very old form of Gaelic that she couldn’t understand. Then the old barkeep turned to her.

“‘Ell be wit you in jus’ a moment. Please, sit.” He said, gesturing to the chairs. “Would you like anything, Miss…?”

“Conor. Jackson Conor.” She said. The old man bowed his head in respect.

“Miss Jackson. M’name is Carrick Dover. Please call fer me if you be needin’ anything.” He said. Jackson nodded as she set her bags down.

“Thank you, Carrick,” Jackson said. Carrick blinked at her, almost surprised that she called him by his name and not ‘Mr. Dover’ as he was used to. He gave her a warm smile and left the room. Jackson sighed and glanced around the room as she waited. She saw a few picture frames sitting on the desk, framed, once more, in cherry wood. She reached over to turn the picture to her, when the door creaked open. She jumped and drew her hand back as another man came out. He stood tall; at least 6 foot, maybe a little under. His hair was dark and was brushed back and up in a proper, professional look. He had a bit of stubble on his face, though it may have been a bit more than stubble, but under the firelight she couldn’t be sure. He smiled at her and his blue eyes glowed with his magick. His appearance didn’t surprise her, but his age did. She could tell he was young, maybe a few decades older than her, but not many. He could have even been a few years older than her, after all witches lived long lives, they didn’t begin to age until they hit their 400th year or so.

“So, Jackson was it?” He asked as he took a seat behind the desk. He sat back and folded his hands in front of him. Jackson shifted her attitude and crossed her legs and folded her hands on her knee.

“Yes. Jackson Conor. I’m here to…”

“Yes, I know why you’re here.” He said, giving a chuckle and holding up his hand to stop her. Jackson blinked.

“Y-You do,” Jackson stated more than questioned. He nodded.

“Yes. I received word shortly after it happened. I thought it best not to tell the rest of my coven.” He said. Jackson nodded, though her face began to scrunch up in confusion. He chuckled and said, “Forgive me. Where are my manners? My name is Bain Murphy. I’m the head of this coven.”

“How? I’m sorry to be rude, I just thought that Carrigan was head? And he would be replaced with Carrick?” Bain raised an eyebrow.

“You know Carrick then?” He asked.

“No. Not personally. But Tiana spoke of him and Carrigan when he was sick.” Jackson said. Bain nodded and pressed his fingers together as he watched her.

“Yes. Well, Carrick was to replace Carrigan, but Carrick refused. He didn’t want to take on the responsibility of Head and asked that I replace him.” Bain said. Jackson nodded and watched him.

“Why wasn’t Tiana informed? Any changes to the Head of a coven must go through Tiana.” Jackson asked. Bain smirked, amused.

“Not to be disrespectful, but Tiana is dead. Why should it matter now?” Bain asked. Jackson shifted her eyes sparking for a moment in anger. Bain’s smirk grew, knowing he struck a nerve.

“Because Tiana is head of the witches and the council. Everything was to go through her. I know everything she did and this was not passed through.”

“How did you know everything?” Bain questioned.

“I was considered to be her replacement. I was among the hopefuls.” Jackson said.

“So if Tiana is gone and you’re not in Belfast, is it safe to assume you were not chosen?” Jackson narrowed her eyes at him.

“It’s under speculation that Tiana was murdered by Morgan. All Tiana’s hopefuls have left Belfast out of safety.” Jackson said, her voice strong and her head held high. Bain sat up, quickly.

“Morgan? The Necromancer? Morgan was killed in Salem during the witch trials.” Bain said.

“Apparently not. The only witch powerful enough to have killed Tiana is Morgan.” Bain stood and began to pace.

“This is not good. If Morgan still roams, she is a danger to every witch. She could out our entire society!” Bain shouted, making the dirt walls shake with his anger. Jackson stood, catching him off guard and stopping the magickal flow from the earth.

“No. It’s not. And having a magickal temper tantrum isn’t the answer.” Jackson said. Bain took a deep breath and slowly walked back to his chair. He rolled his shoulders and Jackson saw his muscles ripple in his back as he let his magick slowly flow through him to calm him down. He sat back down and sighed.

“So, why is it you’re here then, if it’s not for Tiana?” Bain asked. Jackson sank back into her chair as well, crossing her legs.

“I need help. Refuge or witches.” She said. Bain raised an eyebrow.

“Care to elaborate?” Bain asked.

“I’m not trying to drag anyone into the middle of this conflict. As Mickey and Hannah put it, I’m the only other witch powerful enough to stop Morgan, but not on my own. Not yet. So you can either show me the witches you think would be able to aid me in this, or you let me stay here for a time until I leave.” Jackson said. Bain watched her for a while as if he was entertaining her notion. Then a smile crossed his face and he pressed a button underneath his desk. Within a few moments, Carrick walked back in through the door.

“Sir?” He questioned, looking between the two. As Bain spoke, his gaze lingered on Jackson then drifted to Carrick.

“Find Miss Conor a room. She’ll be staying with us for a while.” Bain said.

“Please...It’s just Jackson.” She said, looking from Bain to Carrick and giving him a small smile. Carrick smiled at her and nodded, stepping aside to wait for her to stand, so he could lead her back up. She stood, picking up her bags and went to the door.

“Jackson,” Bain called before the pair left. She stopped and turned to him. His smile still lingered, almost amused and intrigued by her. “Come to me tomorrow. I’ll send Carrick for you.”

Jackson gave him a deep nod of respect, that Bain returned, and Carrick led her back up to the surface and to the very back of the pub.


	5. Chapter 5

Jackson assumed they had rooms underground for the clan. While this was not the only clan in Mullingar, she wasn’t sure if this was one that thrived on Earth magick. Every clan had a different element that they thrived on and were more powerful from. The Coven in Belfast thrived on each element, seeing as it housed every witch of every element. Most clans in Ireland were Earth-based, while the others were mainly Water or Air. There were very few, next to none, fire clans in Ireland, most of them being in Spain or Italy, a few sprinkled over Russia, and especially in Australia.

But to Jackson’s surprise, Carrick led her out of the pub and down the back alley, through the back entrance of a large farmhouse. The second Jackson stepped foot inside, she knew this was the coven house. The amount of magick that hit her was overwhelming. The scents of every witch’s magick was incredible. She got flowers or fresh cut grass, fruits, spices. She had her share of clans, being one of Tiana’s hopefuls, she was required to travel with her when she made her visits around Ireland. Almost every coven house smelled the same, one or two houses having a few different scents. But there were so many in this house, the fumes made her dizzy. Carrick took her arm to steady her and gave a soft chuckle.

“‘Ere.” Carrick grabbed a small cloth ball and handed it to her. Jackson took it and inhaled, deeply. She had seen these fragrance balls before. The pomander balls used in the Middle Ages were widely popular in the coven houses to help visiting witches feel more at ease in an unfamiliar place. The pomanders were enchanted to intertwine with the magick of whatever witch held it. A few more breaths of the pomander and she handed it back to Carrick. “Better?”

“Much. How...How do you have so many here?” She asked as Carrick lead her through the house. It was quiet and seemingly empty. Jackson assumed everyone was asleep or down the road at the pub. Either way, silence in a coven house was never a good thing.

“We take in any wanderers. When Carrigan died and I refused, the coven folded under Bain’s leadership. Not ‘is fault, you know. Many of us were set in the old ways ‘n didn’t wan to see it all go ‘way. So when strangers came ‘round, Bain offered them a room to stay. Become part of his new coven.” Carrick said, leading her up a flight of stairs.

“Why did you stay?” Jackson asked as Carrick stopped in front of a door. He let out a heavy sigh, but his face held a small smile. He turned to her.

“Because this is home. I’d never abandon my ‘ouse. I grew up in this place. My roots is here. If I abandoned my post as easily as the others did? This coven would have died with no ‘ope of revival.” Carrick said. Jackson gave a small smile.

“You’re very loyal, Carrick. And Tiana spoke of you often. You’re a good man.” Jackson said, putting a hand on his, briefly. Jackson saw a small sparkle in his eye when she mentioned Tiana.

“Ah. Tiana. She was a very fine witch.” He said, almost blissfully, as he opened the door. The two walked in and Jackson set down her bags, a small giggle on her lips.

“Did you know her?” She asked, turning to face him as she sat on the bed. Carrick gave a fond chuckle and nodded.

“I did. So did Carrigan. Suppose that’s why she favored the Mullingar coven. Everyone knows she did. We knew Tiana in the old days. Before the awful ‘appenings in Salem with Morgan.” Carrick said, his magick sparking at his fingertips in anger. If Carrick knew Tiana from back then, Jackson knew he was as old as Tiana, if not only a few decades younger. As she watched how Carrick talked about Morgan and Tiana, she debated on whether or not to tell him that it was a suspicion that Morgan killed Tiana. She didn’t want to fuel his anger, but it would soon be found out by every coven around the world. “So. You were Tiana’s second?”

“I was a hopeful. There were 5 of us that Tiana deemed worthy.” Jackson said.

“Who will run the coven?”

“The Counsel will be in Belfast by the end of the week. They have to take over until we find whoever killed Tiana. Only then can the hopefuls return to face judgment.” Jackson said. Carrick nodded and headed for the door, to leave, Jackson assumed. Instead, Carrick shut the door and slid his hand down the center of the wood, magick flying from his hands to seal the door. He turned to her and said, “Do not breathe a word of this to anyone.”

Jackson tensed as her magick went on the defense, confused and unsure of what was happening.

“I knew Tiana well. Intimately.” Carrick said. Jackson raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t shocking to hear that Tiana had a secret love. When her husband died many decades ago, she was very depressed. What surprised her was that she had an affair with a seemingly lowly barkeep witch. One who even gave up the responsibilities of becoming Head of the Coven. “She spoke of ‘er hopes for you, Jackson. You shouldn’ run from this. You need to go back to Belfast and take over as Head.”

Jackson blinked in shock. “I-No. I can’t! I would be endangering the entire coven if I did!”

“Why? Someone needs to replace Tiana.” Carrick said. Jackson took a breath then said, “If you lived in Morgan’s time, you know that Tiana is the only other witch that is more powerful than her.”

“Everyone knows that,” Carrick said. Jackson chewed her lip for a moment.

“Morgan killed her, Carrick. She’s not dead like we thought. Tiana was the only other witch more powerful than Morgan, and Morgan was the only one who could have ever killed her.” Jackson said. Carrick blinked at her, then sighed, shaking his head.

“I knew it was only a matter of time…” He said. Jackson blinked, confused.

“What are you talking about?” Carrick sighed and snapped his fingers, flames jumping from his fingertips. Jackson stood, quickly, her magick sparking from her fingers as well.

“I’m so sorry, Jackson. You are a nice lass.” Carrick said, dropping his accent. Jackson’s eyes widened.

“You...You’re not Carrick, are you?” She asked. Carrick smirked.

“No. ‘Fraid not.” He said.

“Then who the fuck are you?!” Jackson shouted at him. She hoped her scream would alert the other witches, but realization came over her. The silence in the house, when Carrick cast his spell to make the room soundproof. “You’re in league with her, aren’t you? Morgan.”

“Yes.” He chuckled. “She sent out her spies to capture the hopefuls. Seeing as if Tiana chose 5 hopefuls, they must have been rather powerful witches.”

“Who are you?” Jackson hissed. His smirk widened.

“Tiberius.” He stated plainly. Jackson let out a soft gasp.

“No. NO! Tiberius doesn’t exist! It-It was just a story!” Jackson shouted. Tiberius gave a hearty chuckle and shook his head.

“No. Not exactly. My death was a story, but mine and my sister's lives were not. Of course she sent me after you, child. Rumor has it you are the only witch alive, aside from Tiana...when she was...Who can defeat her and now that you’ve confirmed it? Naturally, she would send the one person she trusts more than herself.” Tiberius said. “Now. If we’ve had enough of the pleasantries? My sister grows impatient waiting for us.”

He raised a hand to shoot a fireball at her, but the door behind him burst opening, splintering into Tiberius’ back. He cried out and fell to the floor. Jackson jumped back, her magick at the ready for another attack. Once the dust cleared, she shot a clear mist toward the door, death in its wake. A figure stepped through and waved a hand, dissolving the mist. Jackson moved to scramble away, when another hand shot out, holding her in place. A gasp escaped her as her eyes adjusted to the light this figure brought with it. She blinked a few times.

“Bain?” She questioned. Bain stepped over Tiberius’ body and into the room, dropping his hold on Jackson.

“Jackson? Are you alright?” He asked, going to her.

“Yes. Yes. I’m fine. How-How did you know…?”

“I’m the head of this coven. No magick happens without me knowing. I went looking for Carrick and was told he didn’t go to the Coven.” Bain said.

“Isn’t this the coven?” Jackson asked, confused.

“No. Now is not the time. I’ll answer all your questions, but we must leave. I’ve already sent the rest of my coven away.” Bain said, grabbing her bags. He slipped an arm around her waist and rushed her out as Tiberius came to. He picked whatever splinters of wood he could reach out of his body and jumped out of the window. 

Bain and Jackson ran down the street to, what Jackson assumed, was the real Coven to head to the garage and Bain’s car. Just as they reached the house, Tiberius came flying down in front of them, making the ground shake. He stood slowly, a menacing smirk on his face.

“Let her go, Bain, and Morgan won’t touch your precious coven,” Tiberius said.

“Touch them and it will be the last thing you do, Tiberius!” Bain shouted at him. Bain’s eyes sparked as his magick ignited. Tiberius raised an eyebrow, rather shocked.

“So. You know who I am?” He asked.

“Of course. I know Carrick. He fucking raised me.” Bain spat at him. “You’ll pay for anything you’ve done to him!”

Tiberius chuckled and snapped his fingers as fireballs appeared in his palms. “I highly doubt that, Bain.”

“Don’t test me,” Bain warned. Tiberius crouched, slightly, ready for a fight.

“My boy…” Tiberius cracked his neck and gave an eerie smile. “This is no test.”

Tiberius screeched as he flew at Bain. Bain shoved Jackson aside as his glowing green fist connected with Tiberius’ face and knocked him off course. Tiberius spiraled away and flew into the side of a house, crashing through the old wood. Bain turned to Jackson as she picked herself up. He tossed a ring of keys at her and shouted, “Go to the garage! There’s an old BMW under a tarp! Get in and get out!”

“What about you?!” Jackson shouted back at him, pocketing the keys and not moving.

“I’ll be fine. Just go!” Bain called, turning around as he heard Tiberius groan as he began to pick himself out of the wood. Tiberius regained his bearings and charged at Bain, almost growling at him. “Jackson, go!”

As he turned to shout at her again, Tiberius collided with him, bringing him to the ground. The two men rolled around in the dirt until Bain finally kicked Tiberius off, sending him flying through the air to land with a sickening thump. Bain panted, hard, on the ground and Jackson started for him.

“Go! It’s not fucking over!” Bain groaned, picking himself up. Tiberius shifted on the ground and the sickening sound of bones breaking met their ears. Jackson ignored Bain’s protests and helped him up. “You need to leave, Jackson. You’re the one he wants!”

“And you’re the Head of this coven. You die and the house could dissolve. I’m not leaving you.” She said. A stomach-turning screech came from the lump the was Tiberius and they both slowly turned to watch. They heard a muted Latin spell coming from the lump and watched in horror as he was lifted into the air, his form changing. Bain’s eyes went wide and kept Jackson close.

“You should have left when you had the chance, Bain.” Tiberius’ voice was warped, to the point where Bain and Jackson could almost hear the evil and twistedness in it. “Now death shall come for you and your coven.”

A bright white light burst from Tiberius, making Bain and Jackson shield their eyes. When they dropped their hands, they saw an awful creature flying above them. It was a hideously black and grey thing with wooden horns and sharp gnashing fangs. Its wings spanned about 5 feet each, with long, sharp talons. Bain stared in horror as an ear piercing screech filled the air. Jackson curled her fists and pulled away from Bain, drawing the creature's attention to her and away from Bain.

“Go, Bain!” Jackson shouted as she raised her hands and a hot white ball of magick shot out at the creature. The ball grazed the Tiberius creature’s wing and it shrieked, moving around as Jackson shot ball after ball at him. His mouth opened to reveal a green slimey fire and shot at Jackson. She dove away, but not before a few drops landed on her thigh. The slime was more like acid and it ate away at her jeans and into her skin. When she landed Jackson cried out and held her leg, as though it had been sliced through. She struggled to stand from the pain but continued to shoot out her magick at him. They circled around until the sound of screeching tires met their ears. Jackson and Tiberius turned to see Bain speeding toward them. Jackson sent one last ball straight to Tiberius’ chest and grabbed her bag, jumping into the car. Tiberius shrieked and sank to the floor, changing back into his human form. Bain sped off while Jackson watched through the back window.

As Bain and Jackson disappeared on the horizon, a shadow came out from an alley. The shadow went over to Tiberius and stood over his body. Tiberius came to, a nasty and smoky wound in the center of his chest. He blinked up at the figure and gasped for breath.

“Sister…” He gasped. Morgan took down her hood and stared down at him. “Help me.”

“I gave you one simple task, Tiberius,” Morgan said. “You just had to get close to Bain, didn’t you? You just had to have control of the Mullingar coven.”

“No. Sister. Morgan. Please!” He rasped. Morgan held a hand over his chest and Tiberius gave a broken sigh and small smile. “Thank you, Sister.”

“You  _ are _ my brother, Tiberius. And I  _ do _ love you…” Tiberius’ face dropped. “But you are a liability and cannot be trusted.”

“Morgan no!” A red ball shot from Morgan’s hand and into the hole in his chest, incinerating him from the inside out. As her brother collapsed into ash, she stepped through it and stared at the horizon, narrowing her eyes as she spoke in Latin.

“Soon, little witch. Very soon your life magic will be mine and I will rule over the clans.” She said, as a cruel smirk formed on her face.

~


	6. Chapter 6

Bain drove, fast and far, until they were almost back to Belfast.

“Don’t go to Belfast!” Jackson shouted, so suddenly it made Bain swerve. He glanced at her and sighed, turning off on a side street to turn around.

“Then where?! We can’t go to many other places!” Bain said. “We can’t go back to Mullingar, and who knows where the rest of my Coven went…”

“Can’t you tap into their magick?” Jackson asked, shifting. In her panic of heading toward Belfast, she forgot about the acid holes on her leg and let out a small whimper/groan. Bain glanced at her and sighed.

“No. They’re wanderers and we haven’t established the connection yet,” Bain said. With every new Head of the Coven, a connection is established so if something ever were to happen to either the Head or one of the Coven, everyone would know where they are, what was wrong and how to help. It was required by all Heads, but a connection was easier to establish with the witches of the original Coven. A Coven of wandering witches was much more difficult especially if they came from a far distance, their magick wouldn’t have the same properties as the rest of the Coven, let alone the Head.

“Then where are we going to go?” Jackson asked, trying to draw out her magick to heal herself. She held her hand over the small wounds and struggled to pull out her magick. Finally, she collapsed back in exhaustion and sighed.

“Stop trying. You’re going to make it worse.” Bain said as they approached a small town.

“Well, it hurts and I don’t think this acid crap is good for me or my magick?” Jackson hissed at him.

“All the more reason _not_ to use your magick?” Bain said, giving her a look. Jackson sighed and tried to focus on the light on the horizon to dull out the pain, but it only got worse. Jackson cried out and curled into herself, suddenly feeling her magick being attacked. Bain slammed on the brakes and turned to her. Jackson uncurled and slammed back into the seat, trying to resist the pain. Bain looked down and saw the wounds getting bigger. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…”

Jackson began to pant, hard, as she pressed a hand to her chest, almost trying to protect her magick.

“Bain. It hurts.” She whimpered. Bain ripped open the holes in her jeans to give him more of her flesh to work with. He slid his hand around the wounds, as not to touch it in case it began to attack his magick as well. Her skin was soft and warm and distracted him for a moment or two, his mind suddenly drifting to the other areas of flesh that would be just as soft and warm. “Bain!”

Her magick sparked in her eyes turning them from their pretty blue to a burning red for a moment. Bain shifted and rolled his shoulders, slowly pulling at his magick. He held a hand over her wounds and let his magick flow out and into her. A thin gold line of mist slowly fell from his hand and twirled around Jackson’s leg. A small whimper escaped her lips as she looked down to watch, as the gold mist dove into her leg, causing her to wince, slightly. She felt his magick slide through her veins and up to her chest, to draw out the evil that had seated itself there. Jackson tilted her head, closed her eyes and arched her back, letting out a soft sigh, as she felt the pain leave her seat and her magick, Bain’s replacing it to heal her. His magick was nice. It was warm and familiar. It settled itself on her magick as if they were a perfect fit.

Bain had his eyes closed and muttered in Latin as he pushed more and more of his magick into her, but he too felt the intimate feel of their magicks brushing together. Slowly, and to her disappointment, Bain’s magick left her as it drew out the poison from the acid magick. Bain slowly began to rock back and forth and he fought the poison from infecting his magick while it was still attached to him. He quickly pulled his magick from Jackson’s body and shot a twisted and warped ball of bright gold and rotted green out the window and into the trees. Bain shouted out a quick spell in Latin and the ball burst before it touched anything, so the evil would not continue to spread.

The moment the ball had burst, Jackson relaxed and collapsed against the chair, giving a contented sigh. She gave a small, sharp exhale and slowly opened her eyes and adjusted herself. Bain sat back and sighed as well, the amount of magick and energy he had just exerted, exhausting him. Jackson looked down at her leg and saw three small circle scars dotting her leg. She slid a hand over them and sighed. She looked at Bain who slowly sat up, bracing his hands on the wheel.

“Bain?” Jackson reached over to touch his arm. Bain shook his head and sniffed.

“I’m fine.” He breathed, putting the car back into drive and heading toward the town.

“That took as much out of you as it did me.” She said, almost warning, as she continued to watch him.

“I’m fine. Right now, we need to focus on getting to another town and hiding from Morgan.” Bain said. Jackson rolled her eyes.

“I’m not going to hide from Morgan, Bain.” She said.

“If that’s what her brother can do, what do you think she can do to you?!” Bain said.

“She probably gave him those powers! I’ve heard the stories! And if he’s real, then the stories must be real. I need a place to train and hone my magick until I can go up against her.” Jackson said.

“The longer you train and hone, the more damage she could do to our world and the mortal world,” Bain said.

“All the more reason for me _not_ to hide?” She said, giving him a look. Bain looked at her as he pulled up to a spot.

“And yet you want to go somewhere to train? We’re both contradicting ourselves, okay?” Bain said, turning off the car and sitting back with a sigh.

“We both need to rest. Let’s stay here for the night and we can go and track down your coven tomorrow. I’m sure the council will allow you to set up a house somewhere else.” Jackson said, grabbing her bag and getting out. Bain got out as well and kept close to her.

“I’m not worried about my Coven. They’re wanderers, but they’re strong. They’ll have gone somewhere together and they’re safe from Morgan for now. In any case, she wants you, not me. The longer we’re away from them, they’ll be safe.” Bain said, leading her into the small motel. Bain went to the front desk and paid for a room for the night. The two went to their room and Jackson pulled the drapes shut and sat in the center of the room. Bain lounged on the bed and watched her, raising an eyebrow.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bain asked. Jackson opened one eye and looked at him.

“I’m trying to heal?” Jackson said.

“By meditating? Seriously?” Bain asked. Jackson sighed and opened both eyes, looking at him.

“Yes, Bain. Seriously. This is how Tiana taught us. Maybe if you’d give it a chance you wouldn’t be so uptight.” Jackson said, closing her eyes again. Bain gave a soft snort.

“Please. I’m not uptight.” Bain said, settling himself against the pillows and closing his eyes. Jackson opened her eyes and rolled them, looking at him.

“You are uptight. Your magick isn’t, but you definitely are.” She said. Bain opened his eyes and looked at her, amused.

“You noticed?” Bain said, a hint of seduction in his voice. Jackson gave him a glare and a small, sarcastic smirk.

“Keep it up. I’m only tolerating you now because you saved my life. But then again, I saved yours so, really, we’re even, so now you’re just lucky.” She said. Bain chuckled.

“Honey, please. No woman has been able to take me down. Though...I welcome you to try.” Bain said, wiggling his eyebrows. Jackson scoffed and rolled her eyes, closing them again.

“Interrupt me again, and I’ll strangle you.” She said, sweetly. Bain chuckled and closed his eyes. Jackson took one last peek at him. He had settled himself quite well. He wasted no time, once they got into their room, in taking off his shirt and changing into a pair of grey sweatpants. Why Bain kept a spare bag of clothes and things in his car, she didn’t know and she didn’t really want to. But he had it, in any case. His hair was what captured her, along with other things. It was decently long and she found herself longing to drag her fingers through it from the moment she saw him. Now seeing him shirtless, she wanted to drag her fingers along other things as well.

He wasn’t ‘ripped’ but he had a very good build to him. And tall to boot. His skin wasn’t too overly dark, but just tan enough that made her want to do as the sun did and kiss it. Her eyes drifted downward to the special place he kept covered. She couldn’t see much in the baggy sweatpants, but she didn’t think he was anything short of magnificent. As she watched him and low key fantasized, she suddenly heard Tiana’s voice in her head.

 _Focus, Jackson! You must stay focused if you are to ever gain the higher power._ It was something Tiana had always said when she called on her for a private training. She had never heard Tiana’s chastising voice in her head before, so why would it come to her now. Jackson shook her head and turned away, closing her eyes. She couldn’t get comfortable and sighed, ripping off her tank top and relaxing in just her bra and pajama shorts. Jackson took a slow, long breath in and let her magick wash over her, letting it work. She rested her hands gently on her knees and let her magick take over. She felt herself lift up off the ground, but stayed focused as she hovered in the air.

Bain felt her magick come to life and opened his eyes, watching her. He was pleasantly surprised to see that she had taken off the one bit of clothing he wanted to see under. Well, one of the bits he wanted off. His gaze roamed over her entire body, lingering on certain spots. He assumed if she was to meditate, she would have at least tied her hair back, instead, Jackson let her long curls tumble down around her shoulders. Her skin was as tanned as Bain’s and he found himself longing to let his hands touch something other than the thigh he had worked on earlier that night. As his gaze went further down her body, he saw a small hint of muscle on her. Not too terribly much for a woman, but enough to tell him she kept herself taken care of and strong. Her long legs were tucked under her as she floated and he couldn’t help but picture them wrapped around him as he buried himself in her.

As if feeling his eyes on her, Jackson’s snapped open and turned to him, making him jump.

“Can I help you?” She asked. Bain smirked and shook his head.

“Nope. Just enjoying the view.” Bain teased. Jackson rolled her eyes and uncrossed her legs, her feet meeting the floor beneath and she bent to scoop up her shirt and pull it back on. “Feeling better?”

“Much.” She said. Jackson went to her bag and dug around before pulling out a hair tie and tying back her hair.

“God. You Belfast witches and your old age/new age self-help crap.” Bain said, standing and going to his bag. Jackson turned to him.

“It is old age and new age because this is what our ancestors did back then to control their magick and themselves. You should try it sometime.”

“I don’t do yoga and meditation. I’ll leave that to the Belfast witches.” Bain said, chuckling.

“Why do you say it like that? Belfast witches?” Jackson asked.

“Because. You’re all so...Proper and...And...Uptight.” Jackson blinked and looked at him.

“Excuse me? I’m not uptight.” Jackson said. Bain chuckled and looked at her.

“Yeah. You are.” He said.

“How exactly am I uptight?” Jackson asked, shifting and crossing her arms as she turned to him.

“Well for one thing...You haven’t done anything after what happened.” Bain said, smirking. Jackson raised an eyebrow.

“After... _What_ happened?” She asked, confused.

“Earlier. Our magick.” Bain said, moving closer. Jackson gave a small scoff and rolled her eyes.

“What about it?” She asked.

“What? You didn’t feel that?"

“I felt it. I was…” Jackson cleared her throat and shifted. “It was nice...But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, in my experience, something always happens after something like that does,” Bain said.

“Just because we both felt something doesn’t mean we have to act on that. If anything it means I have more self-control than you. And I’m not like your _Mullingar_ witches, who will jump in the sack with the Head of the Coven.” Jackson said, striding past him to go to the bed.

“First, the Mullingar witches aren’t like that. Second, I don’t sleep with my Coven. When we get the visiting witches there’s always one or two that jump out at me and…” Bain gave a soft chuckle. “I can’t help myself. Being Head has its advantages and perks.”

“Being Head doesn’t mean anything unless you’ve earned it,” Jackson said, plopping down and crossing her legs. “Besides, it’s a position of power. You shouldn’t abuse it like that. You should be settled down and take charge of your Coven.”

“I’m only 225. I’m not worried about settling down. Besides, Carrick kept me close and groomed me since the day I was born. He knew I would replace Carrigan and he would step down. Carrigan was his brother and it was his birthright, but Carrick never wanted it. I never got a chance to live.” Bain said. Jackson blinked at him.

“Is he your father? Carrick?” Jackson asked. Bain looked at her and she could have sworn she saw a flash of hurt in his eyes.

“No. I never knew my father. Or my mother. Carrick said I was born of the Mullingar Coven. He told me my mother died in childbirth and my father left before I was born.” Bain said. Immediately, his demeanor changed. He came to the bed and sat across from her.

“Did they ever show you your lineage? Pictures?” Jackson asked. Bain shook his head and sighed.

“No. But everyone, _everyone_ in the coven told me the same thing. It’s either true or it’s one big conspiracy theory.” Bain sighed again and put his head in his hands. “Maybe that’s why everyone left. They knew I didn’t belong and they refused to be under my leadership.”

Jackson chewed her lip, debating on whether or not to act on her thoughts, then scooted toward him, sliding her hand over his back.

“We can find out the truth. Belfast has all the records of every witch in Ireland.” Jackson said. Bain turned his head to her, lifting it out of his hands, slightly.

“But we can’t go back,” Bain said.

“I have friends. They can get into the records.” Jackson said, her voice turning soft. Bain sighed and shoved his head back into his hands. Jackson sighed and brushed his hair back with her fingers. “Bain, everyone deserves to know where they came from...You’re not alone.”

“Really? There’s more witches that don’t know who their family is?” Bain said, the sarcasm thick in his voice. Jackson winced and sat back, making Bain turn to her. “Wait...You?”

Bain gave a short laugh. “You.” He repeated. “You don’t know who your family is?”

“I was adopted,” Jackson said, not looking at him. Bain blinked and turned to her.

“Witch families don’t adopt,” Bain said, raising an eyebrow. Jackson shifted and looked away.

“I wasn’t raised in a witch family. I was raised by a mortal family who knew how to raise me as a witch.” She said. Bain gaped at her in shock.

“And yet you’re a hopeful to take over Tiana’s spot as Head of Coven in Belfast and of all witches?”

“Say it like it’s a bad thing!” Jackson said, glaring at him. “I’m still the most powerful witch and the _only_ witch, that we know of, that can stop Morgan, so tell me again how it’s such a horrible thing that I was raised by mortals?”

“I’m-I didn’t mean it like that,” Bain said, moving more onto the bed. He sighed and shook his head. “Let’s just get some sleep and we can figure this shit out in the morning.”

“Fine,” Jackson said. She immediately turned over and slipped under the covers. Bain sighed and laid down next to her, turning off the light.

~


	7. Chapter 7

That night, Jackson was plagued with nightmares. Memories rather, ones that weren’t even her own. She saw a cauldron in front of her that burned up a putrid smell. She glanced around her and saw others hanging beside her and saw herself tied up as she looked above her. A shadowed figure appeared by the cauldron. She heard an old sounding Latin spell coming from the shadow, then felt the pain in her chest as one of the men hanging with her died. Jackson watched in horror as the man’s magick flew from his body and to the shadow. She saw witch after witch die and felt their pain as their magick left their bodies and flew to the shadow.

 

The scenery suddenly changed and she was now outside. She could smell the dirt that she lay on top of and the blood that dripped down her shoulder. Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her stomach and whimpered as she held her stomach. She felt her magick slowly begin to leave her seat and she fought against it. She looked up and saw the shadow figure standing over her shouting at her, hand outstretched and she realized the shadow was the source of the pain. As the pain worsened, Jackson screamed.

~

Her scream pierced into Bain’s magick jolting him awake. He startled awake and found the entire room shaking, violently. He shifted in bed, confused as to what was causing it, then Jackson screamed again. Bain turned to her and took her shoulders, shaking her gently.

“Jackson. Jackson! Wake up!” Bain shouted over her screams. Suddenly, she went limp and the room stilled. Bain tensed, unsure if she was dead, or worse. He let go of her shoulders and shifted as he stared down at her in horror. Suddenly, Jackson’s eyes snapped open, burning a bright yellow, and she gasped, making Bain jump and tumble backward off the bed. Bain groaned as he pulled himself up by the bed. Jackson gasped again, as though an invisible force had released her, and she sat up, holding her chest and stomach, the dream pain dulling away. Bain groaned again as he popped up over the side. Jackson turned to him.

“Oh, my God. Bain.” She scrambled over to the edge and helped him up to sit on the bed. “Are you okay?”

“Forget me. Are  _ you _ ?!” He asked, rubbing his back and looking at her. Jackson blinked, confused.

“What...I...What do you mean?”

“You were screaming. You were making the room shake. What the fuck happened?” Bain asked.

“I-I was screaming? I thought…” Jackson sat back and looked away, shocked. She had her share of nightmares, sure. But no one had ever mentioned that she talked, or screamed, in her sleep. Tiana said the majority of witches that dream don’t remember them and they don't talk in their sleep.

Bain settled himself back against the pillows, his back pain ebbing away, and watched her.

“Jackson. What were you dreaming about?” He asked.

“I don't, uh...I don’t know? It was...It was more of a memory but...It wasn’t mine?” She said, looking at him. “I can’t explain it. I-I was back in the old days. Witches were dying…”

“So, then whose memory was it?” Bain asked. Jackson sighed and shook her head, sliding her fingers over her forehead. “Was it your mother’s?”

Jackson looked up at him. “What? No. My family said my mother wasn’t that old. She told them she was born after Morgan’s days.” She said. Bain sighed and looked her over, to make sure she hadn’t hurt herself in her sleep when he saw something glowing under her tank top.

“What in the nine hells is that?” Bain asked, reaching a hand out. Jackson looked down and pulled out the heartstone Cayla gave her just before she left Belfast. Jackson didn’t want to lose it by stowing it away, so she made it into a necklace to keep with her. The light was faint, but it glowed orange nonetheless.

“It’s a heartstone. Serena’s. Cayla gave it to me.” Jackson said.

“A heartstone? Wait, Serena?! Magnus’ daughter, Serena?!” Bain asked. Jackson nodded and took off the necklace.

“Yes. Cayla said if anyone could help me against Morgan, it was Serena.” She said as Bain took the stone from her and examined it.

“No. No, Serena is dead. Morgan killed her the night she killed Magnus and the other witches.” Bain said.

“According to legend. But legend said Morgan died and Tiberius wasn’t real. Bain this happened so long ago, what we know as legend could be true.” Jackson said, taking the stone back.

“Okay. Let’s say the legends are true. Serena wouldn’t be in Ireland. This isn’t where they said she died. Serena died in Pennsylvania. She wouldn’t come back to Ireland if she suspected Morgan was back.” Bain said.

“So, why did it light up?” She asked. Bain sat back and sighed, shaking his head. “Wait…I do remember Tiana saying something about dreams and being connected with other witches…"

Bain looked up at her. “Okay...Well, who did you see in the dream?”

Jackson gave a soft sigh, trying to recall details from the faces in her dream. Realizing she couldn’t properly describe them, she shook her head.

“How much do you know about the first witches?” Jackson asked. Bain smirked and snapped his fingers. His bag flew over to him and he dug around until he pulled out a rather tiny book. He snapped his fingers again and his bag flew back to its spot. Bain held the book in his palm and waved his hand over it, the gold mist of his magick flowing out and swirling around the book as it grew. It was old and the leather was cracked and faded. “You have a book on the first witches?”

Jackson bit her lip to hold back her laughter and looked at him. Bain turned pink and chuckled.

“Yeah. I’m a bit of a nerd when it comes to our history.” He said. Jackson giggled and shook her head, moving closer to him as he flipped through the pages. “Do you recognize anyone?”

“No...Not...Wait!” Jackson stopped Bain from turning the page as a picture of the first witches stared up at her. “This is them. This is who was in my dream.”

“All of them?” Bain asked, watching her face scrunch up as she ran her hand over the picture.

“No. She wasn’t there.” Jackson said, pointing to a black haired beauty. Her smile seemed to laugh and Jackson could almost hear it. Her blue eyes lit up and seemed to shine in the picture. “Is that her?”

“Serena.” Bain said, almost blissfully. “She was a great beauty. Some even say it was her fault that Morgan turned to the dark arts, jealous of her beauty and youth.”

Jackson gave a soft chuckle. “Well, someone’s a little bit petty.” She said. Bain snickered and nodded.

“Yeah. You don’t want to ever run into her in a dark alley. Especially not looking the way you do.” Bain said, closing the book and snapping his fingers to send it to his bag. Jackson blinked and looked at him, an amused smirk on her face.

“What do you mean, ‘looking the way I do’?” She questioned. Bain blinked and turned to her.

“Well, I...What I meant was…” Bain stumbled over himself. Jackson snickered and smirked, watching him squirm. Bain sighed and said, “Well, it’s obvious you’re attractive, Jackson. Anyone would have to be dumb and blind not to see it.”

“So, really, it’s you that has an attraction to me? That’s why your magick reacted to mine earlier?” She said, crossing her arms. Bain cracked a smirk.

“Well, at least I admit it.” He said. Jackson raised an eyebrow.

“Who said I have an attraction to you?” She asked, settling herself back against the pillows. Bain smirked, setting the book aside.

“You had a reaction to me just like I had a reaction to you.” He said. “Come on. You’re telling me, that if we tried, nothing would happen?”

“My magick doesn’t easily mix with others,” Jackson stated plainly.

“It let me in pretty easy.”

“You were saving my life. It didn’t exactly have the strength to resist you.” Jackson said.

“You won’t even try,” Bain said, lying back and smirking. Jackson gave him a look.

“No. I don’t see why I would. You’d only distract me.” She said, rolling over. Bain snickered and moved closer.

“The only reason why I would distract you is if there was an attraction.” He teased, purring in her ear. Jackson turned, giving an irritated sigh.

“If I do this will you go the fuck to sleep?” She asked. Bain smirked and nodded. Jackson sighed and turned fully to him, settling herself on her back. “Fine…”

Bain held a hand over her stomach and let his magick flow from him. He settled himself next to her, hand still above her, and moved closer. He nuzzled at her hair, briefly, causing a sideways glare from Jackson. Bain chuckled and pushed more of his magick into her. Jackson inhaled and arched her back as this new, intoxicating, magick entered her. Bain closed his eyes and let his magick work as Jackson’s eyes fluttered closed. Their magicks danced around in her. Jumping from place to place and brushing against each other. As they tangled together, Jackson couldn’t help but let her mind wander.

Their magicks turned to themselves in her mind. His hands on her, his lips skittering across her skin. Her fingers threaded through his long hair and down his broad back and shoulders. She couldn’t help but imagine his lips traveling down her body and between her thighs. His magick was so strong and powerful that it filled her up, sending her mind to places she never thought she could go. She let out a brief moan before snapping her eyes open and shoving his magick out and back into him, sending him to the other side of the bed.

Bain groaned as he held his chest.

“Jesus, Jackson.” He said, sitting up and opening his eyes. Jackson let out a sharp breath and said, “Happy? Can I sleep now?”

Bain gave a soft scoff and said, “That really didn’t do anything for you? All that and nothing?”

“It takes a lot more than just a very imaginative and powerful magick to sway me.” She lied. Jackson shifted as she turned over and pulled the blankets up, then closed her eyes and forced herself to sleep.

~


End file.
